


Cactus

by ofnovember



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofnovember/pseuds/ofnovember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time I took one word prompts on my tumblr. The word Cactus sat in my inbox for weeks before I had a really bad day and listened to "Where Are You Now" by Mumford and Sons on repeat. This was the result.</p><p>It's several years after their break up and they're both still thinking about each other. They blame the cactus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This works off the assumption that Pedro got Balthazar the mini-cacti on his windowsill.

It’s the cactus. The fucking cactus. You wouldn’t have even remembered if it hadn’t been for that. 

Five years. To the day. That’s how long it’s been. You can hardly believe it. So much has changed in that time. You’ve achieved so much. You’ve played stadiums and won awards and been petrified on talk shows. Most of the time you are the happiest you could ever be. 

Except when you see one of those silly mini-cacti, the likes of which used to adorn your windowsill. It’s times like these when you can’t help but think about… him. 

How could everything have gone wrong so quickly? Sure, you probably should have talked to him before you signed on to tour with Ed but you still would have made the decision to go. It was your dream, after all. And would talking to him have even made a difference? You’re not sure it would have. He’d made up his mind about the whole thing before you’d even gotten to the park.

You had never seen him so cold before. You couldn’t even get a word in, you were so shocked and devastated by what he was saying. When you left he didn’t even say goodbye. It was like he didn’t even care. 

It was a fault of his, you’d known that for a while. He’d get a thought in his head and… well that was that. You still hadn’t been prepared for it. It hurt so fucking much. 

You hear about him from your friends from time to time. He seems to be doing well, but your friends purposefully don’t mention him much. You are grateful for that. Most of the time at least.

As you step out on stage to the roaring crowd, you can’t help but wonder where he is now. You scan the stadium. Does he know about the show tonight? Have you even crossed his mind in the past few years?

 _Probably not,_ you think.

You put on a smile for the audience and begin to play.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the cactus. The fucking cactus.You saw it and had a moment of weakness and now you’re sitting in the nosebleed section of the large stadium. 

Five years to the day, not that you’d been keeping track. You didn’t care about him anymore. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself. You try your best to ignore the feeling of getting punched in the gut every time you see a mini-cactus. 

He comes out on stage and the roar of the crowd is incredible. His face takes up the entire jumbo screen and you find you can’t look away. He doesn’t introduce himself, he just plays.

You recognize the song. It’s one of his most popular and the whole stadium sings along. The song is about love; as all his popular songs are, but you don’t think he’s been in a relationship over the last five years. Ben would have told you that… right? You’re not sure.

A statute would have moved more than you did throughout the show. You shouldn’t be there; you know that, but you can’t bring yourself to stand. 

He speaks into the microphone. It’s his last song, an old one he says. He begins to pick at his guitar and the air gets sucked from your lungs. _You know that song._

_Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more_  
_Men were deceivers ever_  


Who are you trying to kid? You fucked up. You were selfish and too stubborn and too caught up in the moment and by the time you realized it, it was too late. So you went on with your life. You pretended you didn’t care, that you’d moved on. 

Tears begin to leak from your eyes and you can’t sit here anymore. Before he can even get to the second verse, you’re out the door. 

You walk quickly to your car and you don’t look back.


	3. Chapter 3

You sit on the ground with your back against the rock and your legs straight out in front of you, ankles crossed. The ocean before you seems as neverending and beautiful as the last time you were here eight years ago with him. 

Ever since your Auckland show last year he’s been on your mind more and more. You’re not quite sure why; once upon a time you were able to go months without thinking of him. So what changed? Nothing you can think of. 

You’re not angry anymore. Being angry at him had been exhausting; you gave that up years ago. Sadness lingered longer. It had been there at the show, the one in Auckland with the mini-cactus. Now sadness is mostly gone too. Mostly. You're still sad about what could have been, what you and him could have had. 

Love is a funny thing. It’s not rational. It’s not logical. After everything you should have fallen out of love with him quickly but that never happened. You still love him. It isn’t even a devastating thing to you anymore, it’s just a part of you. Maybe that’s why you’ve allowed yourself to think of him more. 

You sigh, reach for your guitar and bring it onto your lap. 

***

You park your truck next to an old Honda, the only other car there. From the truck bed you grab a thick blanket to sit on and a six-pack of beer. You don’t plan on getting drunk tonight (you have to drive home later) but it seems appropriate for the occasion. 

It would have been ten years together today if you hadn’t screwed things up. Forgiveness is not something that comes easy for you. It takes a long time for you to forgive others. It takes even longer for you to forgive yourself. You’re still not sure if you have. It’s the biggest mistake you’ve ever made. 

You walk along the trail to the heap of large boulders near the shallow cliffs. You brought him here once, for your anniversary. It was one of your favorite dates.

Guitar music reaches your ears as you near the rocks and you freeze. It can’t be. _It can’t be._

You walk slowly forward and you can hear the person singing as well. The song becomes recognizable.

_Love, it will not betray you, dismay, or enslave you_  
_It will set you free_  
_Be more like the man you were made to be_  


Before he even comes into view, you know it’s him. 

This can’t be a random coincidence. Not here, not today. 

***

_There is a design, an alignment to cry_  
_Of my heart to see,_  
_The beauty of love as it was made to be_  


You sing loudly and without restraint. Your voice cracks a bit but you don’t really care. It’s been so long since you’ve sung this song. It used to be your favorite. Maybe it still is.

_Love, it will not betray you, dismay, or enslave you_  
_It will set you free_  
_Be more like the man you were made to be_  
_And there is a design, an alignment to cry_  
_Of my heart to see,_  
_The beauty of love as it was made to be_  


You bring the song to a close and run a hand through your hair.

“Do you still believe that?”

The voice is quiet and hesitant but it still makes you jump a little. You didn’t expect anyone to be out here. Especially not… 

It’s been six years but you’d know that voice anywhere. 

Your eyes remain fixed on the endless ocean in front of you. “I dunno. Maybe.”

It’s quiet for so long you start to wonder if you had hallucinated his voice when... 

“Balthazar.” 

A lump forms in your throat and you can’t stop yourself from looking. 

Other than being older, he appears very much the same. His hair is a little shorter than he used to keep it and his clothes are a little nicer but he’s still him. He’s standing there with a thick blanket and some beer and you realize he’s here for the same reason you are. Your heart swells before you can stop it. He’s been thinking about you too. 

He gestures at the space beside you. “May I?”

You nod. He sets the beer down and steps forward, unfolding the blanket.

***

He stands without you asking and you lay the blanket down. You turn to retrieve your beer and by the time you turn back he’s sat down again, looking out over the water and picking absently at the strings of the guitar. The sun will set soon; maybe ten minutes to go.

You sit down beside him and pull your keys from your pocket. You fiddle with them to find the bottle opener and you open two bottles, passing one to him. He takes it and nods his thanks. He seems hesitant to look at you. 

Neither of you speak for several minutes. It’s not uncomfortable but you know he’s not going to talk until you do. But where do you even start? You fucked up so royally. You suppose that’s as good a place as any. 

“I fucked up.” 

He snorts. “Really?” he asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

You allow yourself a small smile, relieved he’s being snarky. You always knew when something was wrong because he’d get quiet. Snark was always welcome. 

“Yeah. I’m really good at that apparently,” you say. 

He shakes his head. “Nah. You’re just stubborn and prone to tunnel vision. Fucking up is a side effect.” 

You laugh. You can’t help it. He glances at you for a moment and tries to hide a smile. It reminds you of how he always acted before you dated. He’d start to smile, make eye contact with you, then clamp his lips together. God, you’ve missed him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, fiddling with your beer bottle. He doesn’t look at you.

***

 _I’m sorry._ You’re amazed at how little the words affect you. Maybe if you still were angry they would have a greater impact but you already forgave him a long time ago. “I know you are.”

He runs a hand through his hair. It appears he hasn’t lost that habit, even with his hair shorter than it used to be. “No, listen. I…” 

You sit back against the wall, waiting for him to compose his thoughts.

“You didn’t deserve that. I mean, no one does, but you especially. Even John…” He runs a hand through his hair again. “When John heard what happened he called me up. Told me I was being an idiot. He wasn’t the first but you know he’s always had a way with words. It finally got through to me.” He pauses and you turn you head towards him, watching him. “I should have called you then to apologize but you were better off without me anyways and-”

“Bullshit.” 

His head snaps around and his eyes meet yours, surprised. He opens his mouth the speak but you don’t let him. 

“If you truly believe that, then you are even more of an idiot than I thought.”

“But-”

“No. Every day we were together I woke up so happy that you were in my life. Sure, you were stubborn and impulsive and little self-centered at times but I knew that. And I knew how to deal with it.” He watches you with wide eyes and you stare him down. “I loved you. You were so supportive and fun and encouraging and I loved you for it.” 

“I didn’t deserve you.” 

You shake your head. “That’s not the way love works. Everyone deserves to be in love. Even you. Especially you.” 

***

You close your eyes when he says that and lean your head back against the rock. God, you love him. Now’s probably not the best time to say it but you’re too emotionally exhausted to care. “I love you.” 

His hand rests atop yours for a moment before he flips yours over to thread your fingers together.

“I still don’t deserve you,” you whisper, eyes still closed. 

He moves closer to you and you feel him rest his head on your shoulder. It was an achingly familiar position. “I don’t care,” he says. 

You open your eyes. The sun was almost below the horizon now. You look down at your shoulder to take in the man at your side. You really don’t deserve him, but you’ve always been a bit selfish. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it didn’t matter. 

The ocean swallows the sun whole and you close your eyes. You lean your head against his, squeezing his hand as you do so. “Okay.”


End file.
